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ON BUENA VISTA'S FIELD 

AND OTHER EARLY POEMS 



By 

PELHAM BROMWELL 

H 
( H. P. H. BROMV/ELL ) 
1823 1903 



Copyright 1918, by 

Henrietta E. Bromwell 

DENVER. COLORADO 



N D E X. 



On Buena Viata's Field.- ... 1 

The Pearl Vested Spikenard. - - - 5 

The Rose. ^ 

Visions.- ^^ 

Spring. ^'^ 

The PEestan Rose. 21 

Song. 2^ 

Lines ( to sister. ) 27 

Delphi. ^^ 

Prologue (for Vandalia exhibition.) - 37 

Hymn. ^^ 

To Crutchfield. ^^ 

To Ada. ^^ 

Merry New Year. ^^ 

Evening Passing. ^'^ 

Abdul of Timbuctoo (unfinished.) - - 59 - 62 



I 

ON BUENA VISTA'S FIELD. '■ 



Bright rose the morn, the glorious morn, 
And light the standard best revealed. 
Which soon should be in triumph borne 
O'er Buena Vista's bloody field. 

The orient beams serenely fell 
Where serried hosts in order lay: 
While rang the trumpet's tuneful swell 
Precursory of the coming fray. 

The hills resound the strains of war. 
The hoary rocks repeat the note; 
O'er tangled dells and mountains far 
The strains of rival clarions float. 



ON BUENA VlSTyVlS FIELD. 



Awake Columbia's deathless bands ! 
The Mexic hosts are on ye now ! 
With murderous hearts and gory hand a 
Their legions shade the mountain's brow. 

L'jud shouts the van, the charginii shout 
Is borne along the distant flanks; 
The tones of savage joy ring out. 
From all their thousand boasting: ranks. 

They charge ! the trumpet's tones are lost 
Amid the conflict's deeper roar . 
While shattered plumes are wildly tossed. 
And rival banners float before. 

Columbia's braves unfaltering stand 
And still their deadly missiles hurl. 
Their thunders shake the solid land. 
Their sulph'rous clouds sublimely curl. 



ON BUENA VISTA'S FIELD. 



Then mid the din, and tempest's wrath. 
Two warriors urged their arduous way : 
Till meeting on th' ensanguined path. 
Each paused his comrade to survey. 

Nor friends were they, for deep and long 
Had hatred in each bosom burned; 
With rankling passion deep and strong. 
Had each the other's friendship spurned. 

They met, but 'neath the cannon's blast. 
The soul's ennobling passions rose; 

Reviving memories o'er them passed 

They met, but could not part, as foes. 

They sprang with more than friendship's clasp. 

Each seized the proffered hand once more: 
Each, each returned that sinewy grasp, 
With fervor all unknown before. 



ON BUENA VISTAS FIELD. 



From eyes by t-..:! :;nd vigiln diiii, 

AiTcction's g-'-ntler currents roll 

Ah ! Who shall say what lies within 
That deep recess the h',;rr.an soul. 

But hark, tin' .shouts :>i victory rise. 

The stripes and stars in triumph wave 

The foe on wings of terror flies. 
He yields the soil he vowed to save. 

Columbia's sons her fame prolong; 

They bear the palm of valor well 

Their name shall rouse the notes of song 
While freedom wakes the sounding shell. 

And long may pleasure bloom for those 
Who in that hour their friendship sealed, 
Who parted friends tho' met as foes. 
On Buena Vista's bloody field. 



Vandalia Ills.. 1849. 



TO THE PEARL VESTED SPIKENARD 



Gem of the Prairies 
And Queen of the fair. 
Brightest of Jewels 
That Autumn may bear: 
Spread to the morning 

Thy beauties serene 

Joyful the sunbeam 

Shall sport in thy sheen. 

Bland are the breezes 
That make thy perfume. 
Soft are the blue skies 
That witness thy bloom; 
Beauties unnumbered 
Around thee are thrown. 
Gem of the wild Prairies 
Lovely and lone. 



TO THE PEARL VESTED SPIKENARD 



What art the splendors 
That India can boast, 
Blooining perennial 
On Lanca's bright coast ? 
What are the glories 
Displayed in the bowers 
Clothed with the verdure 
Of tropical flowers ? 



Thode but the Despot 
Or minion behold. 
Panting for glory, 
Or thirsting for gold ; 
Those have not power 
To wake in the heart 
Thrills of the rapture 
Thy beauties impart. 



TO THE PEARL VESTED SPIKENARD. 



Only the beings 
Who flit thro' the grove j 
Where the bright Peri 
Of Paradise roves. 
Find in their regions 
Of beauty divine 
Beauties or odors 
Outrivaling thine. 



Thine is a language 
Which speaks t:> the soul, 
Waking the feelings 

No art may control 

Speaking in beauty 
Truly thine own. 
Gem of the wild Prairie, 
Lovely and lone. 



TO THE VEAllL VESTED SPIKENARD. 



Here the brhr'nt sunbeam 
Is thrown from the skiet<, 
On the soil where the altars 
Of freemen ariije, ^ 

And honor and virtue 
Alike may be fcimd. 
Where the footstep of slavery 
Imprints not the ground. 

Then L'ladly I bid thee 
Thou fairest of flowefe, 
To bloom round my cottage. 
And shine in my bowers; 
Thy short life while passing 
Shall gladden my own. 
Gem of the wild Prairie, 
Lovely and lone. 



Cumberland Ills., 1812. 



THE ROSE 



In the hour when dew drops pearly. 
Shone on every tufted bough. 
Young Lucillius rising early, 
Blithely turned the shining plow. 

Soft the lark through ether flying. 
Carolled to the rising morn, 
Breezes balnriy, gently sighing. 
Whispered through the mazy corn. 

On the rose the dew drop burning. 
Glittered in the ambient light; 
But the furrow roughly turning, 
Crushed the bud from human sight. 



THE ROSE. 



Then the ead Lucillius stooping. 
Raised from earth the fallen gem. 
But its snowy petals drooping. 
Withered on the broken stem. 

Thus, he cried, o'er bosoms lighted, 
Dark misfortunes soonest lov/er; 
And the hopes that shine the brightest. 
Wither first beneath their power. 



Cumberland Ills.. 1843. 



O N S 



When the shadowb dim and dreary 
Gather round the worn and weary, 
And in Slumber's silken pinions 

Half the rolling world is bound; 
In the silence, holy visions. 
As from bright domains Elysian, 
Far beyond terrestrial beauties 

Unseen spirits shed around. 

Now the holy star light failing. 
Yields to gloom, o'er all prevailing, 

And an Ocean deep and boundless, 

Spreads above, below, around; 

And a voice in choral numbers 



VISIONS. 



Lulls me to delicious slunibers, 
Gentle as a whisper holy, 
Rising sweetly softly, lowly. 
Sinking, till each cadence thrills me 

With a rapture more profound; 
And afar some strain replying, 
As if lost in distance; dying. 
Floats in melody untasted. 

Save by those whose souls unbound. 

Upward soaring. 
Pass the consecrated bound. 

Then the forms unseen by mortals. 
Thro' the glory cinctured portals. 
Half disclosed, and half enshrouded, 

In the shimmering mist around, 
Fill my soul with more than rapture. 
And my wildered senses capture. 



VISIONS 



Ab the ever varying- halos 

Which in brightness all surround. 
Radiant, beaming. 
Fitful streaming, 
Flash and fade, alternate round. 

Whose bright wand can stay the glory, 
Brighter far than sages hoary. 
Told in dithyrambie story. 
In the days of song renowned 
When Parnassian echoes golden 
Round Castalia's fountain sleeping, 

Woke to more than mortal sound. 
Notes immortal which with rapture 

All the dual summit crowned. 

Only Zion's sacred pages. 
Writ by hierophantic sages. 
In the old and wond'rous ages 



VISIONS 



Veiled in mystery profound. 
Tell of more ecstatic beauties, 

Which the midnight wonders crowned, 
Burst=n>? on the prophet's vision 

Over Ulai's hallowed ground; 
Or when av/ful in effulgence. 

All the waves of Chebar round 
Poured ineffable suffusion 

O'er the consecrated ground. 

Now a dimness gathers o'er me, 

And the brightness fades bofcre me. 
And again that ocean boundless 

Spreads above, below, around; 

And again that whisper holy. 

Rises distant, softly, lowly, 
And the heavenly echoes slowly 
Stealing, through my ears resound 



VISIONS 



Till their cadence; 
Like the radiance, 
lintrles with the depths profound. 
All is ended. 

So I rest on mortal crround. 



Oh for once with gaze unshrouded. 
To behold in beams unclouded. 
With supernal vision stronger, 

Than the seer on Bethel found. 
Ail the marvelous scenes which ever 

In that vision world iiboand; 
In these rapture kindling places. 
Which no human pencil traces. 
In the realms divine which mortal 

Never yet hath seen unbound. 



Marshall 



SPRING. 



The sunset hour is loveliness, 

For Spring is passing by; 
With tints of light and rosiness. 

Adorning Earth and sky; 

And sounds of rural melodies 

Are borne on every breeze. 

And thrillingly 

Their minstrelsy 

Reechoes thro' the trees. 

The hawthorn bends in gracefulness, 

Above the humble flower, 
Which blooms in native artlessness 

Within the forest bower; 
And streams in ceaseless restlessness 
Are dancing 'neath the shade. 
Or joyously. 
But noiselessly. 
Meandering through the glade. 



SPRING. 



The birds in notes of amorousness. 

Pour forth their gentle love; 
The Blackbird's varying clamorousnesa. 

The cooing Turtledove; 
And odors of deliciousness, 

From copse and bower and spray. 
Float pleasantly. 
Incessantly, 
Along the enameled brae. 

The lambs in sportive blythesomeness 

Are skipping o'er the fields; 
They seek in native lightsomeness 
The food which Nature yields; 
And childish forms in mirthfulness 
Are bounding o'er the mead: 
The truthfulness 
Of youthfulnesB 
On every brow we read. 



SPRING. 



Ten thousand forms of curiousneos 

Adorn the pebbly brink, 
Where flowers of rare luxuriousncos. 

The limpid v/aters drink; 
And fruits of riper luscioasntJcis, 
To feathery boughs will ciinor. 
When whibperingiy 
The symphonies 
Of summer breezes rinj^. 

O, gentle Spring thy beautiouiucbs 

Reanimates the heart; 
In accents of mellifluousnes^. 
Its cords impulsive start; 
Each string completes the euphony; 
Beneath thy sweet control; 
All resonant 
Of melody. 
The music of the soul. 



20 SPRING. 



When Eden's bloom shone jfloriously. 
Then Spring displayed her prime; 
Ere sorrow reigned victoriously, 
The curse that follows time; 
And when restored to righteousness 
Her bowers with praise shall ring, 
Delectably, 
Perennially, 
Shall reign immortal Spring. 



Cumberland Ills.. 1846. 



THE P ^ S T A N ROSE. 



The lovely Passtan Rose, 
Twice in a year its odors sheds around; 
And o'er the moss grown rocks its beauty throws; 
Which in their mournful grandeur still surround 

The lovely Paestan Rose. 



O'er sculptured marbles strown, 
And chiseled capitals and columns old. 
The deadly winged malaria oft hath flown, 
And gloom and silence there a vigil hold; 

O'er sculptured marbles thrown. 



THE P.3STAN ROSE. 



Who reared those ponderous domee ? 
What free born race those giant arches flung? 
Their history lives no more in ancient tomes, 
Nor sculptor's hanJ hath traced, nor bard hath sung 

Who reared those ponderous domes. 

In brighter days of yore. 
Ere History's pace records the things of Earth, 
Those hoary relics first adorned the shore 
Of that fair lake whoie waters gave them birth. 

In brighter days of yore. 

What sounds of joy or woe. 
Reechoed oft within these mouldering halls? 

The victors' shout — the captives' wailing low 

No stone records thro' all their dreary walls, 

What sounds of joy or woe. 



TilE P.ESTAN ROSE. 23 



When Spring's first breezes play, 
And sunbeams, quivering, paint the vernal shies. 
It spreads its petals to the opening day. 
And decks the moss grown rock v/ith matclilesL^, dyes, 

When Spring's fresh breezes play. 

Again when Autumn shines, 
And mellow light o'er all the landscape throws, 
And purqle clusters bend the trembling vines, 
Fresh buds adorn the boughs of Passtum Rose, 

Again when Autumn shines. 

What power preserves it here? 
Amid the desert wastes unseen to shine ? 
To deck with twice told bloom the passing year ? 
And Nature whispers, "Tis the hand divine. 

Whose power preserves it hare." 



24 THE P^STAN ROSE. 



Bloom on, thcu rose alone ! 
Thy presence cheers the wanderer's fainting sight ; 
The winds which fan thee, breathe a balmier tone; 
And every heart responds with sad delight ; 
"Bloom on thou rose alone." 



Note. Amid the rains of Psestum is found the 
rose which blooms twice a year. The city was sit- 
uated by the lake Salernoe, celebrated for its float- 
ing islands, and the wonderful deposits of traver- 
tine made by its waters. From this travertine the 
temples of the city are built. At present the mala- 
ria renders the spot uninhabitable. 

Cumberland Ills.. 1848. 



SONG. 



There were days when my spirit in lightness. 
Exulted in buoyance and youth. 
And the world seemed a vision of brightness. 
Illumed by the halo of truth; 

Like the days when the Halcyon's bright 
pinion 

Is spread o'er the calm rolling sea. 

They have passed 'neath the dark night's 
dominion, 

But alas, to return not to me. 



There were hearts whose warm friendship a- 
round me. 

Made all things a paradise seern. 

And eyes whose fond influence bound me. 

As if in an exquisite dream; 

Like the light round the pole star oft 

burning. 
Whose brilliance inconstant we see. 
Their brightness to darkness returning. 
No longer sheds lustre for me. 



26 SONG. 



Then Hope held her canopy o'er me. 
And bright the horizon she drew, 
And joys in the distance before me 
Spread regions of charms ever new, 

Like the bow whose bright hues are the 

blending 
Of sunbeam and rain drop set free. 
Each picture of ecstacy ending, 
Leaves only the dark cloud to me. 



Vandalia Ills., 1850. 



LINES 



[Written after the death of his elder sister Henrietta, 
who died in Cumberland, in 1345; they ware published 
in the Vandalia paper, the Fayette Yeoman, Dec. 21 
1850. He later bought this paper changing ita name to 
"The Age of Steam;" its files, with many of his fin- 
est early poems and essays, were later lost by fire.] 



When his last glance the King of Day is send- 
ing. 

Across the western skies, across the western 
skies, 

And sapphire hues, with liquid gold are blend- 
ing, 

•Mid sunset's matchless dyes, mid sunset's gor- 
geous dyes ; ! 

V 



LINES. 



When softened light o'er hill and dale is stream- 
ing. 

And breezes wander free, and wild winds wand- 
er free; 

And star-like flowers from copse and forest 
gleaming. 

Send perfume o'er the lea, pour incense o'er the 



When evening's star from out the blue heavens 

shining, 
With its soft pearly ray, with its own pearly 

ray. 
Comes forth, above the rosy light declining. 
To deck the close of day the gentle close of 

day; 

Then in those holy hours of calm reflection. 
Sweet visions greet mine eyes — bright visions 

greet mine eyes. 
As musing o'er dome hallowed recollection, 
I see thy form arise I see thine image rise. 



LINES. 



Bright as in year, long past, and days departed. 

In childhood's careless hours in childhood's 

thoughtless hours: 
When thou wert near, the true and faithful heart- 

And lo'y untold was ours — and joys untold were 
ours. 

When o'er the vale in heavenly accents flying. 
Thy ever gentle voice— thy ever gentle vmce. 
To music from the rocks and glens replymg. 
Bade each fond heart rejoice — bade this lone 
heart rejoice. 

•Mid Spring's fresh bloom, and Sumtrier's riper 

beauty, 
Beneath our household tree — around our house- 

hold tree. 
We searched the page that points to love and 

duty, , 

Before our Mother's knee— our sainted Mother a 

knee. 



29 



30 LINES. 



Then oft we wandered through the deep recesses, 
Where grew the woodland flower where bloom- 
ed the wildwood flower. 
And violets plucked to deck thy auburn tresses. 
Within our hillside bower our lonely hillside bow- 
er. 



Where high old elms. jEolean music breathing, 

To all the breezes waved in joyous measure 

waved; 

We watched the waves, fantastic, shining, wreath- 
ing. 

Around the rocks they laved the snowy rocks 

they laved. 



Or sat at morn, when countless gems were shining 
From Nature's boundless store from Nature's 

dewy store. 
With bud and rose and leaflet twining 
The wreath the May Queen wore the wreath thy 

temples wore. 



LINES. 31 



We dreamed not thon of dark clouds gathering o'er 

UB, 

That pain and death were nigh that death it- 
self was nigh. 

Nor thought of hourd les3 bright than those before 
us, 

When childhood's joys flew by when youth's 

fond joys flew by. 



But now thy once loved flowers in clusters blend- 
ing. 

From morn till evening wave from morn till 

evening wave. 

Where thy own willow now is sadly bending. 

Above thy lowly grave above thy lonely grave. 



There oft at dewy evening's hour repairing 

Amid the calm profound amid the calm profound, 

111 come, sweet buds and fragrant flow'rets bearing. 

To deck thy lonely mound thy consecrated 

mound. 



32 LINES. 



There oft Til view thee in thy brighter glory. 

Set free from Earth's dark cell this dark and 

mournfi;] ceil, 
Tn visions bright ; s these in ancient story. 
Which hoary legends tell which hoary legends 

tell. 



/» nd t,tili my heart, thy lond remcmb'rance keeping. 

Its wailings ne'er shall cease its deep toned wait- 
ings cease, 

But yet, as on thy couch of pain and weeping, 

I bid thee rest in peace sweet sister, rest in 

peace. 



Cumberland Ills. 



DELPHI. 



O Delphi of the mount ! 
Along whose sacred avenues of yore, 
Walked bards whose strains thy glories still recount. 
And heros, whose proud days, as thine, are o'er, 

O Delphi of the mount ! 

Within thy stately fane. 
Were gathered Earth's proud magnates to adore ; 
Thy Pyth'ness waked the hierophantic strain. 
When bending hosts the sacred emblems bore. 

Within thy stately fane. 

Around thy Parian towers. 
No ponderous wall, or war like bastion rose ; 
The Delphian God and all supernal powers, 
Shed mystic influence to disarm thy foes. 

Around thy Parian towers. 



DELPHI , 



First o'er thy regal height, 
His wheels of flame the Day God's chariot bore ; 
While round him danced Morn's rosy hours of light 
And swift Aurora scattered flowers before, 

First o'er thy regal height. 

O Delphi of the mount ! 
Where are the glories of thy royal prime? 
V/hy do the Muses to thy mystic fount. 
Descend no more, as in the elder time ? 

O Delphi of the mount ! 

By Dian's silver light. 
They wove for poets high the bounding song; 
Or bade the artless shepherds with delight 
Their love winged flute notes in the vale prolong. 

By Dian's silver light. 



DELPHI . »5 



In gloom and sadness dwell 
The chosen places of thy glory now : 
The bannered pageant and the paean's swell, 
Alike have passed, and dust is on thy brow. 

Where gloom and sadness dwell. 

Foiij^tten and alone. 
Thou sittest by the tomb of human pride; 
The lips that greet thee speak in stranger's tones. 
And, passing quickly, leave thee to abide 

Forgotten and alone. 

And empty is the fame. 
Wherev/ith thy excellency once was crowned; 
And thus, for those is glory still the same. 
Who would immortal be on mortal ground, 

And empty is the fame. 

Vandalia Ills., 1856. 



PROLOGUE. 



[ Spoken at a Thespian exhibition in Vandalia, 1855. ] 



Once in the clime where silvery Dian smiles 
On -seas that bathe the fair Mgean isles. 
Where shattered ruins to the silent shades 
Tell the sad tale, "Thus human priory fades"; 
Before the touch of Art's majestic wand 
Had scattered beauties o'er the smiling land. 
The rival muses led their chosen trains 
To ardent contest on the myrtle plains. 

Bright Clio spoke, and History oped her roll. 
And traced for future years the living scroll; 
Euterpe touched her shell and waked the chords 
Whose thrilling tones enchantment still afford. 
While her bright sister by her voice divine 
Bade Art ai-ise, and heaven born Science shine; 
The tragic Muse her ardent votaries fired; 
And last, Thalia her chosen sons inspired. 



PROLOGUE, 



First in her train, first in the cornic art. 
See genius rise, as Thespis mounts his cart. 
Thespis whose name renowned in countless lays. 
The Thespian Corps shall hail to latest days; 
The' rude his vestments, and so mean his stage, 
Which some v/ould scorn in this enlightened age. 
Yet from that germ, behold what fruits arose; 
Not time permits their merit to disclose. 

Light and refinement which such joys impart, 

Walk hand in hand with histrionic art. 

Where e'er they pass they teach each favored race. 

To cultivate more polished forms of grace; 

And uncouth shepherds, on the wastes forlorn. 

With gems of taste their native wilds adorn. 

Thus here we spread our scenes before your view; 
Scenes of amusement and instruction too; 
For only those who strive may hope to learn. 
And who applause would win, applause must earn. 



PROLOGUE 39 



This is our art when rightly understood, 
To give impressions of the true and good. 
Not in a doleful mood, with abject mind. 
But with philosophy and sport combined. 

The world of Nature, to your mind displayed. 
Presents a scene of mingled light and shade; 
Where e'gr we spread the forest's sombre bower. 
We deck its carpet with the scented flower; 
Where the rough rock frowns sternly o'er the way. 
We throw the sunlight's glance, and bid the wood- 
nymphs play. 

Then courteous friends accept our welcome here. 

Your greatest pleasure is our brightest cheer; 

Your generous feelings will forbid you still. 

To mock our youth, or inexperienced skill; 

May Fortune crown your paths, and Friendship more. 

While long Vandalia sits on bright Kaskaskia's shore. 



HYMN. 



Thrice holy is thy name, 

O King immortal of the upper skies 

Creation's countless forms thy power proclaim. 
And through immensity each voice replies, 

Thrice holy is thy name. 

Creation's anthem rings 
In blended tones of melody divine. 
From stellar worlds ; each in its orbit sings, 
And from the milder orbs that round us shine, 

Creation's anthem rings. 

This infant world of ours 
Was hailed to light by such celestial sounds; 
V/hen sons of God, and all supernal powers 
Shouted, while morning stars rejoiced around 

This infant world of ours. 



HYMN. 



Around this v/hirling sphere. 
Commingle sounds of Earth, and air, and sky; 
The boom of thunder shakes the welkin here, 
While mountain height and sheltered vale reply 

Around this whirling sph'ere. 

In majesty profound. 
The billows swell and heave their ceaseless roar; 
While rolls the mighty diapaso round. 
Deep calling unto deep, and shore to shore. 

In majesty profound. 

And gentler tones than these. 

Weave choral symphonies more sweetly bland 

The zephyr's breath, which bears o'er Arctic seas 
Mellifluous accents from some palmy strand 

And gentler tones than these. 



HYMN. 43 



Ten thousand notes are heard 
From mountain top and copse and vale and plain ; 
The voice of living creature, beast and bird. 
From whose harmonious throats to swell the strain. 

Ten thousand notes are heard. 

Beauty and briyhtness all 

All which in loveliness thou hast arrayed. 
Incense and music yield, and still recall 
In endless rounds thy praise, whose hands have 
made 

Beauty and brightness all. 



Vandalia Ills., 1851 



TO CRUTCHFIELD, 



O Crutchfield, long has been the while 
Since last I met thy friendly smile, 
Since last thy converse did beguile 
My pensive hours, mon ami. 

Where hast thou gone — and whither flown. 
Say, dost thou wander far and Icne 
Uncheered by Friendship's soothing tone 
In exile sad, mon avii ? 

Hast thou forgot when side by side 
The gentle hours would o'er us glide 
Where "Friendship, Love and Truth" reside. 
Unmixed with guile, mon ami ? 

Canst thou forget thy quandom chum 
Who always smiled to see thee come. 
It recked not when, or whither from. 
Who hails thee still son ami ? 



TO CRUTCHFIELD. 



Oft when the moonlight fell serene, 
We sat beneath the locusts green. 
Discoursing on some new machine 

To "save the mind," '-.non ami: 

Or oft with point of pencil fine 
We traced the rare unique design. 
Or drew the nice perspective line 
By novel rules, tnon ami. 

Well might our mathematic art. 
A truthful lesson still impart. 
To teach the self alluring heart 
Of human life, mon atni ; 

For life is still a strange design 

Where various lights and shades combine 

Yet how produced may none divine; 



TO CRUTCHFIELD 47 



Its mingling colors ever change. 
Each transformation still more strange, 
And on the Trestla board arrange 
Gay scenes and sad, — mon ar,ii. 

Its brightest things the eye perceives. 
In dim perspective which deceives. 
The hoping heart that well believes 
To grasp them yet, — mon ami. 

While near the eye the forms appear 
Still more defective as more near, 
Uncouthly drawn in lines severe; 

With sombre shades, — ^ m,on am,i. 

Thus present joys no charm can yield 
Each joy by sorrow half concealed, 
We only mark the ills revealed. 

And taste no sweets, — m.on am,i. 



Note: Crutchfield was in Vandalia, a talented architect, 
also quite an artist; his old walnut easel and a roll of his 
drawing paper are still preserved in the family of his 
friend "Pelham." 



TO ADA. 

Ada, now the moonbeams pearly radiance 

Trembles on the bowers, 
And the nig-ht wind breathes a silvery cadence. 

To the dewy flowers; 

Ada, now the pensive hours move slowly, 
Around Night's sable car; 

And thy spirit roves through regions holy, 
Of the dreamland far. 

I too, well might dream of all tLings gentle, 

Such as Poets tell 
Far beyond the shadows occidental. 

In Elysium dwell. 

But I will not let my fancy wander. 

In such wayward flight; 
Here upon thy gift of flowers I ponder 

And with more delight. 



BO TO ADA. 



Gentle ficwers, tho' doomed to evarescense; 

Swift ye pass away; 
Ys shall still with your ephemeral presence. 

Cheer me v/hile I stay. 

Not the bright gems wrjught by mag'ic numbers 
Of the g-nome queen's skill, 

S'er could win me as the charm which slumbers 
In your petals still. 

Not indeed the midnight bl-joming cereus 

Which on Lanca's shore. 
To the darkness spreads its charms mysterious. 

When the day is o'er; 

Nor e'en yet the rose of all transcendent 

Which by Persian springs 
To the moonbeams spreads its disk resplendent 

While the bul bul sings. 



TO ADA. 51 



Absent still would be the charm that 
lingers 

Round yon beauteous flowers; 
Those were never culled by Ada's fingers, 

Nor from 'Bella's bowers. 

Therefore do I bid you cordial greeting 

To my attic lone; 
While your momentary life is fleeting 

It ehal) cheer my own. 



Vandalia Ills.. 1852. 



E R ri Y NEW YEA R. 



Merry New Year, cousin "Evvie" 
Tho' the clouds be dark and heavy, 
Merry New Year, cousin "Carrie" 
While the festive momeli'ts tarry; 
Though for you the gcidcn day 
Cheers a landscape far away; 
Tho' your sounds of careless mirth 
Mingle round a distant hearth, 
Thinking not that fancy's eye 
Brings your smiles and pleasures 

nigh ; 
And to picture all your joys 
Magic pencilings employs ; 
Tracing as with lines of light 
Every faultless feature bright 
Every sunny glance and smile. 
Every tone and artless wile. 
Charms v/hich still the heart will 

tell 
Round the loved and gentle dwell. 



MERRY NEW YEAR. 



Tho' with you I mingle not, 
Memory's glass reveals the spot, — 
Bright each hill and field appears. 
In the "light of other years," 
As the rainbow colors flow. 
O'er the days of "long ago." 

Now another year has passed. 
Mingling with the shadowy past; 
Vernal hues and summer flowers 
Perished with the scented bowers; 
And the tempests, howling, sweep 
Where the withered lilies sleep. 

Yet not all alone they lie ; 
Blooming cheek and beaming eye. 
Fairest of all human flowers, 
In this changing world of ours. 
Low in dreamless slumber rest, 
In the Earth's maternal breast. 



MERRY NEW YEAR. 



55 



But the vernal tints again. 
Shall enliven vale and plain ; 
When the golden sun shall bring 
Rosy vested, buoyant Spring. 

While the w^inter hours are drear, 
Hopes of brighter days shall cheer; 
Thus may coming pleasures still. 
All your future changes fill ; 
Sunlight's glance, and rainbov/ hues 
All your sky of life suffuse; 
And when evening's shadows fall. 
O'er life's transient beauties all 
Hope shall light her beacon star. 
On the eternal heights afar. 
Guiding to the sapphire gate. 
Where sweet Mercy's seraphs wait. 
Where shall meet the good and true. 
And the year be ever new. 



Vandalia Ills., 1855. 



E N I N G PASSING. 



Serenely fell the sun's departing- rays 
Across the plains, the founts, the little streams; 
Thro' yon old woods, where brisjht plumed song- 
sters raise 

Their mellow notes, a flood of glory streams. 

Far on the south, amid the serial blue, 
Yon marble cload, apart from all the rest. 
As if where storms ne'er lowered, nor tempest 
blew. 

In solitary grandeur seems to rest. 

Methinks while gazing on its burnished sides 
And through its gilded aisles, some fairy ring 
In some bright mansion now, e'en there resides. 

Whose choral strains may bid its arches ring. 

But ipark, as day declines, no longer seen 
Tint after tint each in its turn has passed ; 
The pall of darkness hides the brilliant scene. 

And all its pomp is mingled with the past. 



58 EVENING PASSING. 



Now light recedes, and evening's sombre veil 
Is thrown o'er mountain, forest, lake and rock ; 

Dim silence reisJ^^s in the sequestered-^-vale; 

Where maples, moaning, to the breezes reck. 

The wandering herds that roain the plain at will, 
Have laid them down beside the mossy well, 
While from the forest dell the whip-poor-will 

Pours forth his plaintive accents known so well, 

The starry world lies hu.shed in slumbers sound. 
The bird has ceased his song and all is still. 
Save where some humble flock with pious sound 

Invokes His name who guards their slumbers still. 

Blest is their sleeping who their Friend may call 
The one of boundless power and sleepless eye; 
Secure they rest, and so till morning's call 

Beneath His holy vigilence may I. 



Note. He did not copy this poem among the oth- 
ers in the mss. volume of his short poems compiled in 
1856: it was lost amidst some old tax receipts, and for- 
gotten very liktly; it had no title. 



ABDUL OF T I M B U C T O O. 



Alone wheiv the stretchiuj^ desert's way 

Lay wild and h?rd in the shimmering heat; 

V/here the jag-ged rochs in the scorching' ray 

Pressed hot and sharp on the blistering feet; 

Alone by the Niger's endless flood, 

Where the fell hj^ena doth fiend-like hov/1, 

With reeling step and shrinking eye, 

Where the sand glare flashed to the brazen sky, 

Athirst, and fainting v.rith hunger and pain. 

Toiled a wildered youth on the African plain. 

The sun did smite him with blinding glare. 
Like the glow of a furnace thro' stifling air; 
No screen, or shadow of rock or cloud. 
Relief and rest to his limbs allowed; 
The sun must sink in his course at length. 
Yet sink must also his failing strength; 



ABDUL OF TIMBUCTOO. 



And the night hours bring with the fresher air. 
But wasting vigib and chill dejpair; 
When the sun shall whelm not with seary blaze. 
The fetrtrs shall mock Vkith their quiet gaze. 

Ah woe to the wanderer lost and worn ! 
What pitying boBom thy pains will heed ? 
What hand shall guide in thy path forlorn. 
What arm support in this deathly need ! 
What roof shall shelter, what voice shall cheer ? 
The shipwrecked venturer struggling here 
Thus far from the land of thy home and heart, 
That home of youth where thy soul had part 
In the household band where thy brothers share 
The blessed hearthlight and loved ones' care. 

O that land of thine is a beauteous land ! 
There Honor, Liberty, Law are found ; 
The shrines of worship and charity stand. 

And the blessed words of the Lord abound. 



ABDUL OF TIMBUCTOO. 61 



But h«a-e thv fcavage and gwaitby hordee 
Knov/ net at all of th£«e arts divine : 
The bend of charity's silken cords. 
Or haman brotherhood' e love divine- 
What hand will smite on the roek for thee 
That waters eweet in these wastes may flow. 
That the flinty he^-t of the pagan be 
A fount of m^a-cy for all thy woe, 
WiD honied manna at Heaven's coiamznd 
Desctaid for thee on this desert land? 

PART II 

The -wanderer hath passed on his path of pain. 

The trackless desert, and voicel^s plain : 

With tcril and hunger his limbs have shrunk. 

The wasting fever his blood hath drunk. 

The iaekal. howling, hath tracked his way. 

The savage prov/ler in ambush lay. 

These gave him wounds upon hands and head. 

Those lapped with — — — the blood that he shed ; 



62 ABDUL OF TIMBUCTOO. 



And on through furcats of awful shade. 
Through thi-jkets tangled, and morass wide 
He hath crept where the — — — foul brood 

is laid. 
And giant serpents in secret glide? 
He hath toiled by the Niger's endless flood, 
Where the v/ild hyena doth fiend-like howl. 
Where t'.<e jungle panther thirsts for blood. 
And sneaking wolves in tiie darkness prov/1. 

And now mid the dwellings of dark skinned 

men 
The tribes of Afric, his path doth lie. 
Till a city's walls he beholds again, 
And welcome the sight to his longing eye : 
Tho' here he knows not what doom awaits 
The perishing son of another race ; 
Is there cheer or safety within its gates, 
Or hearts of pity, or words of grace ? 

Note. 

The compiler does not know if this poem was ever 
finished; it is from a fragment, lost, like the preceding 
one, amid some old documents. It was written in pencil 
on a s^rap, and the starred spaces not filled in, and 
seenib to be an early bit of work. 



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